chapter 11


~ the lady confesses ~


Ruby was held under Loki's gaze, a come-hither stare that left no room for doubt. He wanted her and she wasn't so snared to skip wondering why. She wasn't exactly a good girl so the offer was tempting, another place, another time she would have reciprocated, but circumstances weren't exactly fair. She was playing him for a fool and now it was worse, because now she was playing with feelings. He'd started as a mark, a means to an end, but now he had a name, he had a face, and he had a heart. Damn her for letting him that far in...

"I'm working with the police," she abruptly spilled, a bubbling fool caught under his spell.

He stepped back after her admission. He was always so cool and collected, which now made his reaction impossible to gauge.

"Ruby," he softly began and she fluttered at the use of her name, "I know you're playing with the law, trying to pinch me..."

She stared at Loki, hurt by the truth. He'd known all along. He'd known and said nothing, playing her like a fool too. Her anger welled into a single action as she slapped him across the cheek. His head jerked to the side as she hit him, leaving a deep rosy red, stark against his pale features. He turned back to stare at her, his eyes unreadable. She boiled with a million questions wanting to know how and why, but none of them mattered. Nothing was important beyond this moment because, like a million threads, they'd all come unraveled.

"Why did you tell me?" he suddenly asked.

It wasn't a path she wanted to head down. She'd already made a mess of everything and the last thing she needed was to be caught in the aftermath. Detective Coulson would rain down a world of trouble for mucking up his operation for sure. She cringed wondering where that thought had been a few seconds before, saving her from herself as it were.

"I think you should go," she stated instead as she started towards the door, but his hand slid onto the wall as he blocked her retreat.

"Why did you tell me?" he asked again.

She turned then, back against the wall, realizing she'd found herself in a pickle long before he drifted on by. He'd just been the final nail, sealing away her fate in a proverbial coffin six feet deep. She'd found pressure from all sides, but he'd made her cave, him and those pools of green.

"Tell me..." he urged again, but this time she heard the quiver in his voice.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she met his pleading stare.

"I didn't want to hurt you," she finally admitted and even though it was the truth it left her unsettled.

Suddenly he reached up, cupping her face as he kissed her again. She felt the weight of his body as he pressed her against the wall. Her fingers traced the soft creases along the shoulders of his black suit. Slowly he pulled away and studied her face. After a moment he traced his thumb along her bottom lip, a gentle brush that made her miss the sweet rapture of his lips. He smiled then, playful and alluring, with a mad twinkle that meant he had to be scheming.

"So the jig is up..." he stated as he slid a waif of brown hair from her face, "I didn't want the gem anyway..."

She laughed, hardly buying that he'd let all his planning go to waste, "I don't believe you."

"And what declaration would make you believe otherwise?"

She shook her head, running her fingers across his green silk scarf to straighten out the folds. She couldn't look at him, couldn't face the situation that she was partly to blame for creating. Slowly he reached over and slid his hand across hers, lacing together their fingers. Drawing it up he kissed the back and she was left in sorts under the gentle linger of his lips across her skin. He pulled away then and walked back into her hotel room towards the nightstand. She watched him as he picked up the black rotary phone and turned to her.

"Call him. Tell him that it's going down tomorrow night. Tell him everything he needs to know," he stated as he held out the receiver, "While he's setting his trap we'll set our sights on new horizons..."

She stared, unblinking, trying to come to terms with what he was implying. He couldn't be serious. It would never work. Things would get hung up in the execution and topple on down around them.

"Ride off into the sunset?" she laughed though transitioned into a more serious tone, "I don't think you're the type to wish for such a boring ending..."

"Who said anything about a sunset?" he immediately countered, "I was thinking more a fade to black. The cover of nightfall is always more alluring. Besides, what you call an ending, I call a beautiful beginning."

"You know they'll give chase. They know who you are now. They know your game," she quickly announced because he hadn't seen the determination in Detective Coulson's eyes.

"I highly doubt that," he replied with a grin.

She eyed him suspiciously, "Why do I have a feeling you're not telling me everything?"

"Maybe because you're not telling me everything either..."

He was right. This entire charade, elaborately crafted and acted, was the perfect foreplay for a budding forbidden romance. He knew it and that's why he'd engaged in it. Part of her, that wasn't afraid to admit it, knew she'd done just the same. He was good and he knew it. She'd say it again. He'd ensnared her that night as they danced to the Moonlight Serenade, pretending for a moment that there weren't ulterior motives behind every word. It wasn't as much a dance as it was a game, each footfall, each utterance, an opening play.

She took the phone from him and it was cool in her hand as she dialed the operator. He stood near her, eyes cast downward as he waited right along with her.

"I would like to be connected with Detective Phil Coulson. I believe he placed a call to me before."

She waited a moment as the operator acted and soon enough the other line was ringing. Part of her hoped it would ring forever, echoing on through an empty office, maybe even an empty station. It was a silly thought as the line picked up. He'd told her to call him and that carried the implication that he'd be waiting.

"Detective Coulson..." his familiar voice answered from the other end.

"It's Ruby," she stated, short and sweet, "The heist of the star sapphire from The Vault...it's going down tomorrow night."

"He called a meeting?"

"No, he just...called," she knew even as she spoke it there was a suspicious undertone, but she was hardly a crafty liar under such impromptu circumstances.

"Right. Tomorrow night when?"

"The thirteenth hour..."

"Flair for dramatics, to be expected I suppose. Listen things have changed. We need to pinch him in the act for this to stick. We're going to be on you like glue."

"What? That wasn't the plan..."

"Plans change," he countered.

She slowly looked up at Loki, "Yes, I suppose they do."

"Hang tough. This is the final stretch. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Unhun," she sighed as she hung up the phone.

"The thirteenth hour?" Loki inquired with a raised brow.

She shrugged, not prepared with an explanation, "Sounded like something you'd say..."

"It did," he surprisingly admitted with a smile, "So 12:59 to 1:00. Doesn't really leave much of a window, but I suppose something magical could happen in a minute."

"Magical? That's hardly reassuring..."

"Well then, rest assured, I'll meet you on the platform," he whispered as he grabbed the tickets from her dresser and slid them in her hand, "The last train will be ours."

She quietly lamented as he ducked out of her hotel room and she was left in the chilling quiet faced with an impossible choice. This game was fixed and no amount of planning could derail it.